


Steps

by darkroguephantom



Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 07:56:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7426552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkroguephantom/pseuds/darkroguephantom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Seung Yoon was never signed to any music company after Superstar K? This story takes place in an AU where Seung Yoon is a street musician and Jinwoo is a YG trainee. A five-chaptered series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

Applause.

That was the first thing that Seung Yoon would remember.

Thunderous applause, people clapping until their hands hurt. Some of them had been shaking their heads, looking disappointed. It wasn’t right; their faces seemed to tell him. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The four judges in the front had identical looks of shock on their faces too. Their expressions told him the same thing.

But what good did it do?

What they thought couldn’t change anything, Seung Yoon wanted to tell them as he took in rows and rows of people, all with different expressions that all seemed to say the same thing.

The outcome had been decided.

His dreams were crushed.

Seung Yoon stood there, in the midst of the applause, surrounded by people who didn’t know him but thought they did; accepting the fact that everything he worked for was now being washed down the drain.

 And he smiled.

* * *

He didn’t go home to Busan.

Seung Yoon didn’t think that he could bring himself to. It wasn’t all the people there that awaited him, half who would shower him with adoration and the others who would whisper about how he had wasted his time. After all, no one ever remembered whoever finished fourth.

It wasn’t all that.

It was his empty house, with the lone figure of his mother sitting at the table surrounded by the echoes of a thousand arguments and another thousand angry silences. Maybe she would have a dark bottle in her hand. Maybe she would raise the bottle to her lips and toss her head back as she reluctantly let her eyes trail down the bill in her hand.

That was what Seung Yoon couldn’t face.

He couldn’t bear to see her; the one he had failed so spectacularly, with thousands of people watching.

His mother had begged. Oh, how had she begged.

But he wouldn’t listen.

It wasn’t the first time he ignored her pleas.

 It probably wouldn’t be the last.

* * *

Seung Yoon breathed in the heavy air of Seoul, fresh but laced with the smell of smoke and too many people. The streets were busy as usual and no one paid any attention to the boy with the cocked hat and guitar slung over his back. He was just another musician, invisible against the pulsing crowd. He was _just another boy_ , out of the countless that passed through Hongdae. He was no one.

But at the same time, some people lingered when they saw his face. The shadow of recognition glimmered in the eyes of those who managed to get a good look at Seung Yoon. He wasn’t surprised. In fact, Seung Yoon was even used to it. After the competition ended, he still was on TV a lot. Advertisements, concerts and photo shoots. All part of the deal. But he was never in the spotlight. Any one of these pedestrians would have recognized John Park on the spot. But Seung Yoon was the other guy. The one that didn’t really matter.

Seung Yoon sighed, setting up his usual spot. Give them a month or two, they’ll all forget about him anyway.

Kicking his guitar case open, Seung Yoon slumped down on the box that served as his seat these days. Resting his guitar on his knee, Seung Yoon started picking out chords softly. Still no one in the street turned to look at him.

Striking the strings in one swift motion, Seung Yoon began to sing. His voice rose above the echo of hundreds of people wrapped in the clouds of their lives, ringing in their ears, forcing them to look. He could feel their eyes on him as they rushed by, urgently chasing time, trying to finish some important errand that didn’t really mean anything. Seung Yoon knew they were looking at him. Closing his eyes, he raised his face to the sky, letting the wind caress him with its brittle fingers. They were looking at him.

 He wasn’t invisible now.

* * *

The dirty yellow rays of the setting sun pushed through the stubborn clouds until the city was swimming in its fading light. It was getting late and Seung Yoon needed to leave now or he’d be late for his job. Packing up his guitar, he scooped up the money random passersby had left in his case. There was more than usual today; more than usual but still not enough.

Seung Yoon lingered at the street corner although his guitar was already slung across his back. He watched the end of the street eagerly, waiting. It happened every night, Seung Yoon knew. Anytime now.

‘There!’ Seung Yoon thought. He tightened the grip his fingers had on his guitar, watching four boys emerge from a nondescript building and walk towards him.

YG trainees, Seung Yoon thought. On their way to dinner.

They certainly had an aura of _differentness_ about them. The air around them seemed thicker, murkier and anyone who looked at them seem to see a mirage. They were strange, different, and special.

But also temporary.

Seung Yoon’s eyes seeked out one of them in particular. A boy, slightly shorter than the rest, with clear eyes and beautiful skin. This boy walked near the back of the group, his head bowed and shoulders slumped, hair falling into his face. There would always be a frown on his face, only a slight one but one a face like that even a slight one was noticeable.

For some reason, he was the one that grabbed Seung Yoon’s attention. Not the ones with the brightly dyed hair or loud voices, calling out to one another as they walked down the street, night after night. It was always that one boy.

Tonight he seemed quieter than usual, Seung Yoon thought. Merely nodding his head when his companions talked to him, keeping his eyes trained on the ground.

The boys were almost level with Seung Yoon now. They were just about to pass him when the last boy stopped and murmured something to the rest. They nodded and continued, leaving the other boy alone. Seung Yoon ducked his head as they walked by him.

Looking up, Seung Yoon saw that the boy was still there watching his friends leave. Seung Yoon studied his face, trying to decipher what the boy was feeling. He looked … wistful. Wistful and sad. Like he was missing something he had or was wishing for something he didn’t. Or both. It was perplexing.

Just then, the boy seemed to sense Seung Yoon’s probing gaze and turned slightly to meet his eyes. Surprised, Seung Yoon stood absolutely still. It was the same reaction he would have had if he encountered a frightened animal; trying to convey through the absolute stillness of his body that he meant it no harm; he just wanted to watch.

The boy looked at Seung Yoon for a while. Up close, he was even more beautiful than Seung Yoon had realized. The sun had completely set now and in the half light of dusk Seung Yoon could see that the boy had delicate features, deer-like eyes and full lips that seem to naturally curve into a slight smile. Seung Yoon wished he could see more but the last light of day was quickly disappearing and shadows were getting bolder, creeping out of their corners.

Seung Yoon watched as the boy smiled, nodding his head at him. Turning, the boy walked back the way he came. Seung Yoon’s eyes followed him until he disappeared into the gray building at the end of the street.

Sighing, Seung Yoon shouldered his guitar case and made his way to the restaurant where he worked every night.

Maybe he would see the boy tomorrow.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Jinwoo was slumped against the walls of the practice room.

His head was swimming and the world seemed to flicker in and out of focus.

He had to keep practicing, Jinwoo thought. Just one more time. He needed to keep going.

But he didn’t have the strength to move anymore. His muscles were bunched up under his skin and his back throbbed. Jinwoo’s throat was dry and sweat ran down his skin in little rivers, making his shirt stick to his back uncomfortably.

Sliding down to the floor, Jinwoo felt his eyes drift shut. He couldn’t hear anything but the sound of his own ragged breathing and the thudding of his heart. The harsh light of the fluorescent lamps above him beat against his shut eyelids, demanding to be let in. Jinwoo hated that light. It had always seemed so dead, washing out everything around him so it seemed dreary and empty. He wished it would go away.

Opening his eyes slowly, Jinwoo took in the room around him, the four walls that made up his prison. Every day he would come here, pushing himself to his limits; going through swift dance steps over and over until he could do them in his sleep. Jinwoo thought that his voice seemed to be tinged with an edge of desperation when he sung these days.

Give me a chance, his voice seemed to beg. Let me be free.

Jinwoo had always felt trapped. Everywhere he went, Jinwoo thought felt something closing in all around him, smothering him, trapping him and pushing him down into the dark hole that was his mind. He despised the feeling. But he couldn’t escape it. Not in Imjado, not in Seoul not in this empty mirrored room.

Sometimes, Jinwoo thought it was his own skin that was suffocating him. And he wondered if he tore it off, the sensation would go away.

For months, Jinwoo had gone through the same routine. Getting up, eating, practicing, and sleeping. He couldn’t remember what life had been like before. And he couldn’t imagine an after. All the days seemed to melt into one another now, like wet paint spreading through paper.

But there was always the threat of elimination hanging in the air. The danger of being kicked out into the dirt for failing to meet the set standard. It hung about Jinwoo like a cloud, tailing him wherever he went, casting a dark shadow on whatever he saw. At night, he could feel it weighing down on him, its ominous presence taunting him.

Jinwoo didn’t sleep anymore.

He stayed up, night after night, telling himself to practice. Honing himself to as close to perfection as he could, fighting against the suffocating threat of elimination.

Jinwoo swore he wouldn’t give into this fear of not being good enough.

But it was difficult, and it got harder every day.

Jinwoo could feel his will fading and his was grip slipping.

Soon, he wouldn’t be able to get up again when he fell.

He wondered what will happen then.

* * *

It was late when Jinwoo finally left the empty building that held practice rooms for the YG trainees. The night sky was littered with heavy, gray clouds and the moon was completely shrouded in them. Little patches of light from the street lamps, headlights of the occasional passing car and neon signs burned through the darkness, illuminating the street.

Jinwoo strode home quickly; carefully skirting the shadows that hid in every corner, hating the silent threat darkness seemed to pose. Drawing his hoodie tighter around himself, Jinwoo wished he didn’t have to go through this walk alone every night. He wished he were talented enough to leave every evening with the other trainees. But Jinwoo knew that what he lacked in pure talent, he could make up with hours and hours of never-ending practice.

And practice he did.

Especially with the monthly evaluations coming up.

Someone was going to leave soon, Jinwoo knew.

Someone left every month.

He hated himself for wishing it wouldn’t be him. Despising the fact that he would want his worst fear to be someone else’s reality. But all of them did that. It was in the eyes of the other trainees as they watched each other practice. It was in the unspoken words hanging in the air of their dorm.

Jinwoo knew there was a reason he was putting himself through this. He used to dream of this. Jinwoo was sure he used to desire it, with all his heart and soul.

If only he could remember why.

Jinwoo was jolted out of his thoughts by a pool of light spilling out from a 24 hour restaurant he passed on the way home. He blinked, peering inside curiously. Usually, the doors to this place were shut so light could only filter through the blinds over the windows. Jinwoo had never seen the entrance left so boldly open before.

At first glance, the restaurant seemed like any other. The same oily tables and squeaky chairs you usually found in diners. Menus were printed out on the walls and painfully cheerful décor was everywhere.

Then, Jinwoo noticed a boy with the apron tied around him sprawled out at a table. His heart leapt when he recognized who it was.

It’s the guitar player, Jinwoo thought.

Jinwoo saw him all the time, busking on the streets of Hongdae. He had only heard the boy sing once, but Jinwoo didn’t think he would ever forget it. The boy had the most amazing voice he had ever heard; so raw and heart wrenching it almost drove you to tears. Jinwoo had never heard a voice with so much power before. He knew when the boy sang, it was almost impossible not to listen. Curiosity had tortured him ever since the first day he heard the boy sing. Jinwoo wanted to know more about the guitarist, but he had always stopped himself. Something about the boy - maybe it was the easy way he held the guitar, almost like he was caressing it; maybe how he always seemed oblivious to the world around him when he sang - it made Jinwoo want to get closer. The guitar player was a bright, burning flame and Jinwoo was a moth fluttering about him nervously, never daring to go any closer for fear he might get burned.

But now the boy here, just a few feet away. The same curiosity prickled in Jinwoo’s mind again, forcing him to step into the restaurant and putting words into his mouth.

“Hey,” a single word grated out of his throat. After hours of singing the same lines over and over again, Jinwoo’s throat was sore and it was almost painful to talk.

The boy looked up. Jinwoo saw his eyes widen under his cap. Clenching his fists nervously, Jinwoo forced himself to continue.

“I’m Kim Jinwoo. What’s your name?” Jinwoo’s eyes devoured the other boy’s face, committing his features to memory. Up close, Jinwoo could see that he was good-looking in a rugged sort of way as he took in the clear, fair skin, choppy black hair and shielded brown eyes. The boy was thin as a rake and Jinwoo could see that he was tall too. The cap and apron he wore labelled the boy as a waiter here but Jinwoo couldn’t see anyone else around.

“Kang Seung Yoon.” The boy’s answer was almost reluctant. Jinwoo didn’t blame him. It must be weird to have a random person introduce himself to you in the dead of the night. He wondered what did the boy see when he looked at Jinwoo: a gray hooded boy with tired eyes, maybe.

“You’re a YG trainee,” Seung Yoon continued. The boy, Seung Yoon, had a trace of awe in his voice. Jinwoo realized he had not been the only one watching another stranger closely. He smiled, looking at the ground. He sometimes forgot that being a YG trainee was something to be admired.

“Yeah, yeah, I am.” A half laugh, half sigh escaped Jinwoo’s lips. He looked at Kang Seung Yoon. “I guess you’ve seen me around, then?”

“You pass by me every day.” Seung Yoon told him. “At least, you used too.”

“Yeah, I’ve been staying late these days. Evaluations are coming up.”

Jinwoo was surprised at how easy it was to talk to this familiar stranger; his words slipped out easily, without even a second thought. The boy seemed to understand Jinwoo just by looking at him. He seemed to instinctively know what was Jinwoo going through, like he'd been there before.

“Do you want some ramen?” Seung Yoon gestured to a seat beside him. Jinwoo didn’t hesitate. He wasn’t eager to leave. Not yet.

Watching Seung Yoon cook the food, Jinwoo felt a weird sensation wash over him. Now, that he met Kang Seung Yoon face to face, he couldn't shake of the feeling that he recognized the boy from somewhere.

“Hey … do I know you?” Jinwoo asked. “I mean, before this. Have we met or something?”

Seung Yoon snorted.

“No.” was the short reply. Seung Yoon’s eyes were guarded and careful. But the feeling wouldn’t leave Jinwoo.

“I swear I’ve seen you before,” Jinwoo leaned forward looking at Seung Yoon intently. The boy met Jinwoo’s eyes for a while then relented. Jinwoo could see the boy dropping his guard. It was like the doors behind his eyes opened to reveal someone completely different from the composed guitarist standing there.

“Maybe on TV.” Seung Yoon told Jinwoo softly.

“TV …? Oh!” Jinwoo finally made the connection. Kang Seung Yoon, the guitar, the singing, Superstar K. “You’re the boy who sang Instinctively!!! You’re famous!” Seung Yoon snorted but Jinwoo saw the beginnings of a shy smile curl his lips.

“Yeah, I used to be at least.” Seung Yoon slid two hot bowls of ramen across the table and they dug in. Questions swirled in Jinwoo’s head.

Something wasn’t right with this picture, Jinwoo thought. This guy was a star, but here he was working nights at some cheap restaurant and busking in Hongdae during the day.

“What … what happened?” Jinwoo asked softly. The place was absolutely silent and Seung Yoon looked out the door, to the empty street. Disappointment, sadness, and anger rippled over Kang Seung Yoon’s features before they settled into a kind of blank tiredness. A single sigh rolled off his lips.

For a moment, Seung Yoon just looked at Jinwoo. Then, in quiet and careful words, the guitarist told his story:

He talked about the lonely city boy who never knew his father and was always so lost and angry. How his mother had been up to her neck in debt and he had joined the audition program to help her. After Superstar K, there had been a roll of promotions. Everything Seung Yoon made, he had given to his mother. But their debt wasn’t even half paid off yet and his mother was still working herself to the bone, trying to scrap together enough money to get through each month.

Jinwoo felt his heart ache for the younger boy. Behind his walls, Jinwoo thought that Seung Yoon seemed lost and detached from everything else around him. He was drifting.

“I couldn’t see her live like that anymore.” Seung Yoon told Jinwoo, his eyes dark.

There was a lot of pain in those eyes, Jinwoo thought.

So, Seung Yoon moved to Seoul permanently, hoping to make his big break here. Praying for a chance to finally help his mother. Hoping someone would see him as more than just the boy he finished fourth and give him a chance.

“You’re going around auditioning, then?” Jinwoo asked. They were both leaning against the table, looking out at the street. Their empty bowls had been pushed aside to a corner.

“Hmm?” Seung Yoon turned to look at Jinwoo. “Yeah, I do. No luck so far.”

“What about you?” Seung Yoon asked, nudging Jinwoo slightly. “What’s your story?”

“Nothing much to tell,” Jinwoo answered, but Seung Yoon was looking at him intently. He was just as curious about Jinwoo as latter had been about him. Biting his lip, Jinwoo forced out the words he kept bundled up in his chest, feeling the prickly ball of memory unravel within him.

Seung Yoon listened to every word Jinwoo said without even a change in expression. He didn’t raise his eyebrows as Jinwoo told him about how poor his family had been, how his father struggled, leaving them for months on end, working. How one dream made him push through it all, and fight to leave everything behind.

“When, I got on that ferry leaving for Seoul,” Jinwoo sighed, shaking his head. “I thought I was free. I mean, I was going to Seoul. But now that I’m really here …” He trailed off; trying to form the words he had been toying with in his mind for months.

“I can’t remember what I was chasing anymore.”

Seung Yoon nodded, eyes still on the street. “You wonder why you’re putting yourself through all this.”

Jinwoo felt his heart leap. He had never met anyone who understood. “Yeah,” he said shakily.

“Your family sounds nice,” Seung Yoon said quietly, watching Jinwoo. He smiled and looked away. Jinwoo’s throat hurt every time he thought about them, his mother and sister struggling through the days on the island. His father, spending so many months away that when he came back, it seemed like he was only visiting them. A stranger from the sea.

“You miss them, don’t you?” The guitarist’s simple words carried the weight of Jinwoo’s world. Nodding furiously, Jinwoo bit his lip, trying to hold back the tears in his eyes. But it was too late. They trickled down his cheeks, carving a salty path to his chin. Their salty-sweet taste filled Jinwoo’s mouth as he swiped the tears away angrily.

“Hey,” Seung Yoon wrapped an arm around Jinwoo, hesitantly. “It’s okay, hyung, let it out.”

And let it out Jinwoo did; the pain and frustration of the last couple of months finally escaping him. Pain burst in his stomach, spreading over his chest so it was hard for him to breathe. Seung Yoon held Jinwoo the whole time, his arm wrapped around the older boy in a half embrace.

“I’m tired,” Jinwoo told Seung Yoon between sobs. “Just so tired.”

The tears eventually subsided to an exhausted silence. Leaning against Seung Yoon, Jinwoo listening himself breathe, trying to calm down.

“I’m sorry,” he told the younger boy. “We only just met but I- I’m really sorry.”

Seung Yoon waved away Jinwoo’s apology. “You’ve only just met me, yes, but you already know more about me than anyone else ever did.”

Jinwoo managed a laugh.

“True,” he told Seung Yoon.

The words lapsed into silence and they sat comfortably there for a while.

“Hey,” Seung Yoon said finally. “We’ve talked about everything else but this,” he held up a black case. Jinwoo watched as Seung Yoon pulled the guitar out and held it against him, liking how Seung Yoon’s hands gripped the instrument almost intimately. He smiled when he heard the first chords the guitarist played, the familiar folk song it belonged to bringing back a thousand memories.

When they started singing, Jinwoo felt a thrill shoot through him. He hadn’t expected Seung Yoon’s rich voice to match his own soft one so well but it did. Palms tingling, he looked over at Seung Yoon and the boy smiled at him, the corner of his eyes crinkling. It was the first full smile Jinwoo saw the boy wear and he was surprised by how much he liked it. They finished the song together and Jinwoo felt his heart fill with something almost like happiness. It had been so long since he felt it that he had forgotten what it was like.

This was what he had been chasing; the elation and complete joy that music brought him.

He finally remembered.


	3. Chapter 3

Seung Yoon had never been overly fond of forming attachments.

Since he was kid, people had always been coming and going from in his life; easily severing bonds with him to leave for something better, someone better. To Seung Yoon, most relationships were just temporary. Maybe someone would be by his side for a while, sharing his joy and learning his pain. Sometimes he’d even get used to their reassuring presence. But somehow they always left, one by one. Until one day, all he could remember was a packed bag and a turned back.

He’d never let himself get upset though. Seung Yoon understood there was no point in waiting for them to come back or even mourning for someone. He just had to pick up the mess they left behind, smooth out the creases they left in his heart and keep going.

People said he was cold and stoic. Seung Yoon knew that his iciness hurt those close to him, especially his mother. But there wasn’t really a way for him to change. He had managed to detach himself from his emotions, building a wall between what he thought and what he felt. The surging wave of emotions almost always remained contained within him. They were rarely reflected in his face and he never put them into words.

Simple words never really worked for him. Occasionally, armed with a melody and a guitar Seung Yoon would walk the fine line between his heart and his mind, putting the rolling emotions locked within him into a song.

It was how he coped.

* * *

The sound of footsteps in the night and a knock on the door.

That was what Seung Yoon lived for these days.

He’d spend torturous hours wishing the day way, waiting for the sun to hide itself and for night to seep out instead. While working, he could almost feel the burden of every remaining hour slipping off him like rocks. Seung Yoon breathed easier with every passing one, until finally, he could shrug off his stained apron and cap and join the silouhette waiting for him outside.

They never really had any sort of plan, nor did they ever actually agreed to meet up. All Seung Yoon knew was that Jinwoo started to show up outside his work place every night and they’d leave together.

Sometimes, they’d go to parks, completely empty at that time of the night, and revel in the loneliness of the place. Or they’d walk on the street for hours, wandering aimlessly through the city, navigating along the rushing cars and flashing street lamps; the only constants in the ever-changing city.

Often, Jinwoo and him would talk for hours, slipping easily from one topic to the next. Sometimes, they’d sing, enjoying listening to the harmony of their voices ringing out in heavy night air; floating higher and higher until the wind whipped it away. But what Seung Yoon loved the most were the silences. The times when neither of them felt the need for spoken words or hummed melodies to enjoy each  others company.

As long as they were together, it was enough.

* * *

This time they walked to a park not far from Jinwoo’s dorm. Placed on a hill, Seung Yoon could see the entire city of Seoul from the top. It was one of their favorite places to go together. Jinwoo loved openness of the place and how cool the wind was there. Seung Yoon liked how he could pretend the entire city was below him; that somehow he had escaped its prison of iron and glass buildings.

“The evaluation is tomorrow.” Jinwoo’s words were barely a whisper but Seung Yoon heard them loud and clear. He bowed his head, frowning. He already knew that this was coming, of course. Seung Yoon had been watching Jinwoo for days now. Every time the end of the month rolled around, Jinwoo seemed to be stretched thinner, and thinner until he was barely more than a wraith with wide, unsure eyes.

Seung Yoon hated seeing the purple bags under his hyung’s eyes darken with each passing day. He blamed himself sometimes, wishing Jinwoo wouldn’t show up every night to wander around with him. He had asked Jinwoo repeatedly to go home and get some sleep but the older boy had absolutely refused to listen. Once Seung Yoon had refused to follow him out, thinking that maybe Jinwoo would go home that way. But the older boy only went straight back to the practice room.

It was better this way, Seung Yoon told himself. At least, he’s getting some rest.

“I know,” Seung Yoon answered quietly. Jinwoo looked out to the city of Seoul sprawled out before them, its ordered streets and high rise buildings lit by the light of a thousand lives, still rushing for time even in the dead of the night. His hyung’s eyes weren’t trained on the metropolis though. They combed the sky above the glow of Seoul, seeking a light far older and colder than that of the city.

“You could never see any stars in this place,” Jinwoo sighed. Seung Yoon nodded his head. The millions of flashing lights in Seoul easily defeated the stars, leaving the sky glowing dirty orange when the sun set. Seung Yoon knew that Jinwoo was thinking of the stars over Imjado. And he was wondering if he’d be seeing them again tomorrow.

This was the third time Jinwoo had told Seung Yoon about the monthly evaluations.

Each time, the feeling was the same.

Dread growing in Seung Yoon’s stomach, poisonous vines wrapping around his heart and squeezing tighter with every passing day. When he looked at Jinwoo, he’d feel a lump pressing against his throat that made swallowing painful. He didn’t like it; Seung Yoon thought he had trained himself not to form any attachments. But here was this boy, who had broken down every wall Seung Yoon had ever built around his heart. He had learnt to care for this pale-skinned boy with the bright, deer-like eyes.

Seung Yoon was terrified of losing him. And the worse part that it could happen so easily.

“You’ll do fine, hyung.” Seung Yoon told Jinwoo, resting a hand on the older boy’s shoulder. Eyes closed, Jinwoo shook his head, drawing his hoodie close around him. He is so fragile, Seung Yoon thought, taking in Jinwoo’s shoulders that were caved him on himself, burdened with his own insecurities that weighed the world. He doesn’t need to go through this.

“It’s different this time,” Jinwoo told Seung Yoon. He rocked himself slightly, moving back and forth. “I know I’m going to go,” his voice rose with agitation, ringing out in the quiet night. “I know I am going to have to leave, Seung Yoon. There’s no else left. The other guys … they are different. They’ve all got some niche, something they do outrageously well. What do I have? I’m nothing compared to them.”

Seung Yoon bit his lip. Spoken reassurances would do nothing for Jinwoo, he knew. There was not a thing Seung Yoon could say that would convince Jinwoo that he deserved a spot among the league of YG trainees. Especially not today, the eve of the dreaded evaluation. The only thing Seung Yoon could do was stay there as Jinwoo rocked back and forth beside, his knuckles white as they gripped his own arms hard.

“You’ve practiced. You’ve worked your fingers to the bone every day,” Seung Yoon decided to try encouragement anyway. “You’re going to do good, hyung.” Jinwoo didn’t answer and Seung Yoon thought that Jinwoo hadn’t even heard his words. They continued watching the moving light of the city for a while, each one of them quietly shifting through heaps of grey thoughts.

“It’s getting late, Jinwoo hyung. You should be getting home,” Seung Yoon told Jinwoo, getting to his feet and pulling the older boy up as well. Jinwoo let Seung Yoon help him stand, swaying on his feet slightly, the faraway look still in his eyes.

“Seung Yoon” he said abruptly.

“Hmmm?” Seung Yoon replied as they started walking back; he to his rented apartment and Jinwoo to his dorm.

“What would you do?” Jinwoo looked at the younger boy, his next words tumbling over on another, tinted with nervousness and fear. “If I have to leave, what would you do?”

Seung Yoon froze for a while. The question had taken him by surprise. What would he do? He never really thought about it. In fact, Seung Yoon hadn’t really allowed himself to think about it. He had gotten used to this nightly vigil with his hyung. Sometimes he fancied that they were the watchers of the city, the only ones who truly knew what tonight was like in Seoul. But that was just his imagination.

No, he never really considered the possibility that this thing between them could end. The fear was there of course, resting in his chest like an ugly black ball. However, the notion of it being born to reality … no, it had never crossed Seung Yoon’s mind. Watching his hyung wage a silent, destructive war with himself was enough.

He had two choices now: to tell Jinwoo the truth or to lie. Seung Yoon felt his heart struggling against his chest, twisting painfully. Various answers clawed at his throat. Finally, Seung Yoon managed to choke out an answer.

“I would go on, I guess.”  
  
Jinwoo nodded and looked away quickly. They resumed walking. In the light of the passing street lamps, Seung Yoon thought he had seen disappointment flash dimly in Jinwoo’s eyes but he couldn’t be sure. Guilt churned within Seung Yoon. He had had two ways to answer Jinwoo’s question: to tell the truth or to lie.

He wanted to believe that he had lied. Seung Yoon desperately wanted to think that losing Jinwoo would change him; that Seung Yoon would feel Jinwoo's absence and he would mourn him, miss him - anything.

But at the same time Seung Yoon was so used to numbing himself to the holes people left in his heart when they left. Maybe he was an unfeeling and icy enough to leave the memories of Jinwoo behind like they didn’t matter.

So, Seung Yoon wasn’t sure. Did he lie? Or was that the truth?

* * *

The day of the evaluation was drawing to a close and Seung Yoon still had not seen Jinwoo. He had watched the end of what he had taken to calling ‘his’ street eagerly the whole day but the training building had remained completely devoid of any activity.

Bright pink, yellow and orange were shooting through the sky now, the colors tangling with each other. Seung Yoon’s guitar was leaning against his feet; he hadn’t bothered to pack it up yet. Jinwoo may not be in the practice room, Seung Yoon knew. The older boy had told him that the evaluations were carried out in the YG building which was a few streets over.

Seung Yoon waited till darkness fell, dropping over the sky like a black veil. The sky was glowing with the bright lights of Seoul again and the vendors of Hongdae were out and about. Seung Yoon watched the dark building at the end of the street, finally admitting that there was really no one there.

Maybe the evaluation wasn’t done yet, Seung Yoon told himself.

Maybe they had the day off afterwards.

A thousand possibilities and probabilities crashed around Seung Yoon’s head as he cleaned tables and took orders mechanically at the restaurant. The hours seemed to drag longer today, moving reluctantly like their feet were stuck thigh deep in mud. Time ticked away but Seung Yoon couldn’t breathe any easier. He tip-toed around one horrifying possibility, all night long

He couldn’t have, Seung Yoon thought desperately. He’s good enough to stay. He would have come to said goodbye at least. He didn’t get kicked out. _No._

These fierce thoughts kept Seung Yoon company as droves of people waddled in and out of the restaurant. Seung Yoon worked. And worked. Waiting for when he could get away from the place but dreading what would he find when he finally did.

At long last, the final customer burped and the last table was wiped. Seung Yoon set his apron on the counter and strode out the door. He wasn’t sure where was he going. Maybe the YG building or the trainee dorm, Seung Yoon didn’t care. He just wanted to find Jinwoo.

In his blind rush, Seung Yoon collided into someone standing out in the street. He almost pushed the person aside when he recognized the silhouette standing before him.

“Jinwoo hyung?” Seung Yoon said incredously. “Are you okay? What happened? A-are you – Did you- Jinwoo hyung, are you okay?”

The boy was shivering, standing there in a thin singlet not even a hoodie to protect him from the biting night air. Seung Yoon shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the older boy. Jinwoo didn’t acknowledge the gesture. His eyes were wide and staring. Startled, Seung Yoon realized that Jinwoo’s skin was slicked with sweat. Had he been practicing?

“Hyung, what have you been doing? How did it go? What happened? Why won’t you answer?” Seung Yoon grabbed Jinwoo’s shoulders and shook them slightly. His heart was pounding. His head seemed to be filled with empty static. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe.

The older boy blinked and met Seung Yoon’s eyes. “I’m staying,” he told Seung Yoon slowly. “I didn’t get eliminated.”

Relief and joy burst in Seung Yoon’s heart. Smiling broadly, he grabbed Jinwoo and pulled him into a hug. _Thank you_ , _thank you,_ he though repeatedly though he wasn’t really sure who was the gratitude directed to.

“I knew it. I knew you would make it through,” Seung Yoon told Jinwoo, savoring the fierce victory of having made it through another month. He drew back in surprise when hot tears splashed onto his skin.

“I don’t deserve this,” Jinwoo told him hoarsely. Seung Yoon didn’t say anything. Wiping away his hyung’s tears and put his arms around Jinwoo again. There were so many words he could use to show Jinwoo how much he did deserve it. So many things that could prove Jinwoo wrong. But Seung Yoon knew that nothing would work unless Jinwoo realized them himself.

So until then, Seung Yoon would hold on to him and see those things for Jinwoo.


	4. Chapter 4

There was a new empty hole in the dorm.

Jinwoo watched as all the other trainees skirted around it. No one came out and actually acknowledged what they were doing but there wasn’t really a need to. Almost subconsciously, they avoided the empty chair at the table, left the corner of the sofa and didn’t bother to make the bed. Things would stay that way almost as if they were waiting for the one that had left to come back.

Then, slowly, as Jinwoo knew it would, all of the trainees would start to forget. The chair would have someone else seating on it, the place on the sofa would be taken up by a pair of stretched out legs and the bed would be filled by somebody new who was just as temporary as the rest of them.

Jinwoo had watched this subtle dance more times than he wanted to. He hated the moment when he would blink and realize that the old trainee was already passing out of his life like they never existed in the first place. Days of songs sang together, dances learnt together and pictures taken together would be scattered by the winds of time until only faded memories remain.

Often, Jinwoo wondered how long it would take before the trainee forgot him when he left. Would he linger in their minds, as someone who had been there long before they were or would he fade away just as quickly? Would he only be remembered as the burden to the group; forgotten except for rare recollections of troubled times?

He wondered if he would ever know the answer.

* * *

 

“Good, Jinwoo-ah! You’ve improved! Keep it up!” The words of their vocal instructor burst through Jinwoo’s mind. He blinked; automatically accompanying a bow with murmured words of thanks before the full meaning of the words actually formed in his head.

It had been so long since one of their trainers had praised him. Jinwoo walked around glowing for the rest of the day. The words seemed to fill his chest like a helium balloon, making him feel almost weightless. Jinwoo felt light on his feet. During their dance practice, he felt himself moving easily through the dance sequences, his body flowing smoothly. That gained him another compliment from the trainer and Jinwoo grinned giddily.

The other trainees poked fun at him, calling him a teacher’s pet in good humor.

“Jinwoo yah, what spell have you put on the trainers?”

“Hyung, what’s your secret? I want to improve too. Maybe then the trainers would by me some meat!”

Jinwoo laughed with them, enjoying the bright atmosphere. He felt like all those hours he had put in, practicing till the streaks of grey were shooting through the sky, and all the sweat he had shed in this very room were finally doing him some good.

Suddenly, the mirrored walls didn’t seem like cold prison walls anymore and the fluorescent lamps not all harsh. The practice room seemed to be merely an indication of the easier, happier future to come.

I can do this, Jinwoo thought, looking around at the other trainees. Just another two years, I can hold on that long.

That night, he practiced late again. He wasn’t going to let a few compliments swell his head and screw with his schedule. But he couldn’t really focus. Jinwoo’s thoughts kept shifting to a boy who was probably somewhere out there wiping countless tables, his true identity hidden in the now still strings of his black guitar.

Jinwoo couldn’t wait to see Seung Yoon. He owed this to his dongsaeng, Jinwoo realized. Without Seung Yoon, Jinwoo would have probably given up months ago; letting the black thoughts that dwelled at the back of his head wash over him, drag him under and drown him.

Seung Yoon had helped him pull through.

There were so many things about the younger boy that he admired: Seung Yoon’s calmness, how thoughtful the other boy was and how he never lost control. But Jinwoo loved Seung Yoon’s passion the most. He had watched the younger boy prepare for audition after audition, and coming back each time with a polite rejection. Seung Yoon had never let it get him down and Jinwoo was always amazed by that. Maybe Seung Yoon would make a joke or two about how he still was the boy who came in fourth but that was the closest Jinwoo had seen Seung Yoon come to complaining.

Music seemed to burn in Seung Yoon like a flame, and Jinwoo thought it was a shame that all those company people were too blind to see it. It was obvious in the way Seung Yoon held the guitar, in his voice that rang out in the streets of Hongdae and the bliss in his face as he sang.

Jinwoo was always thrilled when Seung Yoon shared some of that fire with him. When they sang together, it seemed like the whole world fell away, sucked into a nameless void that left Seung Yoon and him alone with only music for company. And what glorious company it was.

He knew Seung Yoon felt it too.

“Maybe someday we should try making songs together, eh hyung?” Seung Yoon would say sometimes. And they’d both laugh. But there was a part of Jinwoo that wished it would happen. It seemed like a perfect future. Seung Yoon and him creating their own music and releasing it to the world. Maybe they’d have concerts and go on tours. They’d live the life both of them were chasing and they’d do it together. To Jinwoo, the long road to his dream would seem much shorter if he had the younger boy with him.

When he put all of these thoughts into words and presented them to Seung Yoon, the guitarist’s eyes had shone eagerly.

“Ah, hyung. That would be amazing wouldn’t it? Seung Yoon smiled at Jinwoo. “But what would YG Entertainment do with a rocker like me? I’m not exactly their style. Do you think I would be able to get in?”

Jinwoo’s heart leapt. Seung Yoon was actually considering it.

“You’ll never know unless you try,” Jinwoo had replied. Seung Yoon had nodded, frowning.

“We’ll see, hyung. We’ll see.”

* * *

 

“You look happy today, hyung,” Seung Yoon’s words greeted him late that night. Jinwoo smiled, tilting his head up to look at the sky.

He felt free, more than he had ever felt before in this city. After the initial excitement of being in Seoul had been washed away by reality, Jinwoo found that life here was much too suffocating for his taste. Too many buildings at every corner. And the people! Thousands of them dashing through the streets and pouring out of the subways. The abundance of humanity in the city made Jinwoo feel claustrophobic. He felt like the tides of people would just sweep him aside and he’d be lost forever.

But the walks he had with Seung Yoon had always been different. Especially today, when Jinwoo felt like the weight of the worry and nerves in him had been lifted.

Jinwoo almost felt like he could fly.

“Yes, Seung Yoonie.” Jinwoo replied cheerfully, raising his arms high above his head and imagined them grazing the stars behind the yellow veil of light above Seoul. “I’m very happy. I’m so happy I could fly.” Jinwoo pulled Seung Yoon’s arm with him as he walked faster and faster. Just like that, the pavement was flying behind him and Jinwoo was running. He could hear Seung Yoon behind him, yelling after him to slow down for god’s sake this wasn’t the friggin' Olympics but Jinwoo only ran faster.

His heart was pumping hard and adrenaline rushed through his veins. Jinwoo laughed. The street lamps seemed to be moving backwards as Jinwoo passed them. He was _flying_.

Finally, he couldn’t run anymore. Collapsing to the road side, Jinwoo breathed hard. His head spun and his vision was blurred with dark spots. His muscles were crying in agony but that’s okay because it all felt so _good_.

Seung Yoon finally caught up to him. The boy hadn’t even tried to run. All he did was jog but Seung Yoon was breathing almost as hard as Jinwoo. He threw himself down at Jinwoo’s side, complaining bitterly.

Shoving his dongsaeng playfully, Jinwoo teased, “You’re out shape.” Seung Yoon snorted.

“Hyung, I was never _in_ shape. Physical activity has never been my forte.” They both shared a laugh. Laying on the side-walk like that felt good, better than it should.

Pavements always seem so hard, Jinwoo thought. But today they were sort of comfortable.

Jinwoo and Seung Yoon lay there side by side for a while, enjoying the silences that often came and went between them. It was the quiet between two people who were perfectly in tune with each other. They needed no words to know what the other was thinking. There were glances and light touches that conveyed more than words ever would.

Jinwoo sighed happily, his arm around Seung Yoon. It was really a perfect day.

“Hyung,” Seung Yoon’s voice slid into the silent air between them easily. “You never did say why you were so happy.”

“Ahh, yeah I didn’t.” Jinwoo shifted a little, getting comfortable on the road and proceeded to tell Seung Yoon all about the compliments from the trainers and the light teasing.

“Will the trainers really buy you meat if you improve?” Seung Yoon asked. Jinwoo had to swallow a laugh. Trust Seung Yoon to pick up on that first.

“Sometimes,” he replied wistfully. Seung Yoon reached over and gave Jinwoo a hug. Surprised, Jinwoo returned it. Seung Yoon was rarely affectionate, except for when Jinwoo was really down. Today, Seung Yoon pulled him in close, the warmth of his body surrounding Jinwoo comfortingly.

“They’re finally seeing you, hyung.” Seung Yoon whispered in his year. “They’re finally seeing what I see.” Jinwoo squeezed the younger boy hard.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

When they drew back, Seung Yoon seemed almost embarrassed.

“Ah, you’re so cute sometimes.” Jinwoo told him and was rewarded with a shove. Laughing, he shoved back hard and Seung Yoon almost toppled over.

“Hyung, wait, stop,” Seung Yoon gasped, holding his side. “I have to tell you something.” Jinwoo waited for him to go on. The younger boy looked down at the pavement for a while. When he continued, his voice was low and serious. “Remember when we talked about making music together?” Jinwoo nodded. Seung Yoon met his eyes briefly before his next words tumbled out. “I have an audition at YGE tomorrow.”

Jinwoo leapt up, eyes wide. “What? Are you serious?? That’s great, Seung Yoon-ah! You went to see them personally?”

Seung Yoon nodded, smiling at a little at his hyung’s excitement. “Yeah, yeah, I do. They said that the CEO was going to be there too.”

“Yeah, he almost always is at auditions.” Jinwoo was quivering with excitement. “You’re going to get in, I know you are. It’s YGE man; they know talent when they see it.”

Seung Yoon just shook his head, smiling a little. Jinwoo thought his eyes seemed dark. Why? Jinwoo wondered. What isn’t he telling me?

It’s probably nothing though, Jinwoo thought. He’s probably worrying like he always does.

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” Jinwoo asked. Seung Yoon bit his lip, hesitation coloring his face. There it is again, Jinwoo thought. He really is hiding something.

“Yeah, hyung.” Seung Yoon’s voice betrayed nothing. They walked home in uninterrupted silence except for Jinwoo’s occasional question about the audition.

Jinwoo spent the rest of the night thinking about the shadow in Seung Yoon’s eyes.

* * *

 

The next day was almost like pure torture. Jinwoo thought that time was deliberately going slower just to spite him. Every time he heard footsteps outside the practice room for the male trainees, Jinwoo’s head would snap up eagerly. The other guys were starting to get a little annoyed.

“Ah, Jinwoo. You’ve let a couple of compliments distract you from our work.”

“Hyung, where are you? Come back down to Earth!”

Jinwoo didn’t bother explaining. To the rest of them, news of another trainee just meant there was someone new to compete against. There was some brotherly love between all of them, but there was also the constant reminder that in here, each of them was on his own.

So, Jinwoo focused, trying to lose himself in practice. The hours ticked by lazily. First, one then two.

Was Seung Yoon auditioning now?

Three hours.

Did he remember to tune his guitar?

Four hours.

Will they bring him over here now or tomorrow?

Five hours.

How is all of this going to work, really?

Six hours.

There was no one to answer Jinwoo’s questions so he tried to answer them himself, looking at his own pale reflection in the mirrors all around him.

After practice, Jinwoo headed out to the street with the other trainees. They seemed surprised but no one said anything. Looking up and down the street carefully, Jinwoo saw that Seung Yoon was nowhere in sight.

Of course, he wouldn’t go busking today, Jinwoo berated himself. Maybe he was finishing one last shift at the restaurant or something. Mumbling something to the other trainees, Jinwoo made his way back to practice. Disappointment curved his back as Jinwoo told himself to hold on just a little longer.

There’s that whole lot of papers they make you sign too, don’t forget that, Jinwoo told himself.

So he waited. And waited. He wasn’t even in the mood to practice anymore. Jinwoo couldn’t seem to grasp the dance that had come to him so easily yesterday. The lyrics to the song they were singing this month seem to fall to the practice room like rocks, bulky and meaningless.

This was frustrating as hell, Jinwoo thought. Where the heck is that boy?

As though Jinwoo’s thoughts had summoned him, there was suddenly the echo of footsteps outside. The door of the practice room opened to reveal Seung Yoon standing there. The younger boy stood slumped against the frame, like he was too tired to hold himself up anymore. The guitarists pale face revealed nothing. Jinwoo searched his dongsaeng’s eyes eagerly but they were completely blank. The shutters behind Seung Yoon’s eyes that Jinwoo had seen the first time they met was back.

A sense of foreboding slide down Jinwoo’s throat and settled in at the bottom of his stomach; a murky brown monster curling up in its nest.

“Hey, hyung,” Seung Yoon’s voice was hoarse. “I snuck in if that’s okay.”

Jinwoo wanted to walk towards the younger boy and prop him up but Jinwoo found that he couldn’t move an inch. The monster in his stomach seemed to weigh him down.

“How did it go?” Jinwoo forced the words out around the lump in his throat. Seung Yoon didn’t respond. For a while, he just stood there, black hair hanging over his face and covering his eyes.

“I didn’t make it.”

It was like the world stopped revolving.

“ _What?_ Are you kidding me?” He has to be joking, Jinwoo thought desperately. This has to be one of his dumb jokes. Come on, Seung Yoonie.

“No, hyung.” Seung Yoon’s voice was flat. It was like he was finally feeling the hurt and bitterness from all the countless rejections he encountered before. “I really didn’t make it.”

Jinwoo moved towards him then. He put an arm around the younger boy and lent him support. Jinwoo was about to wrap his arms around Seung Yoon in a comforting embrace but the guitarist pushed him away.

“Wait, hyung.” Seung Yoon choked on his words slightly. “There’s something else.”

Nothing could be worse than this, right, Jinwoo asked himself. But the darkness in Seung Yoon’s eyes didn’t bode well.

“I’m – I’m going home.” Seung Yoon almost had to spit the words out. Jinwoo blinked.

“You mean to visit you mum? For a break?” Seung Yoon shook his head roughly at Jinwoo’s reply.

“No. I mean, I’m leaving Seoul. I’m not coming back.” Seung Yoon refused to meet Jinwoo’s eyes.

_Seung Yoon … was leaving?_

He words didn’t seem right. Like wrong pieces of a puzzle being forced together.

“But … being an artist? Your dream? What about your dream?” Jinwoo asked numbly.

Seung Yoon buried his head in his hands. Sighing, he looked at his hyung sadly.

“I was a fool, hyung. I kept going around thinking that someone was going to take me in. Coming in fourth should have been indication enough. I shouldn’t have stuck around in Seoul at all. I was too cowardly to go home and face the inevitable, that’s all. But now, it’s time. I’m not sticking around anymore.”

Seung Yoon’s face was so blank it scared Jinwoo. Each of his words was like a blow to his face.

He couldn’t just leave.

“But what are you going to _do_?” Jinwoo couldn’t imagine Seung Yoon being anything or anyone else. It just _wrong_ , like trying to imagine red being any other color but red. It just didn’t work.

“I’ll go back to school. Take the entrance exams. Go to university. You know,” Seung Yoon shrugged carelessly. “What everyone else does.”

Jinwoo couldn’t take it any longer. Grabbing Seung Yoon’s shoulders, he shook the boy slightly.

“Seung Yoon, listen to me. You can’t be happy doing anything else. This is your dream. You’ve never let rejection bother you before, why give up now? Seung Yoon ah, are you listening to me?” Desperation weaved its way through Jinwoo’s words. But they didn’t seem to have any effect.

“I’ve already bought my ticket, hyung.” Seung Yoon told him quietly. “I just came to say goodbye.”

Pulling away, Seung Yoon turned and walked away; leaving Jinwoo staring at his receding back. The bag in his hands seemed so small for one who had spent so long here. Not taking his eyes of him, Jinwoo hoped Seung Yoon would turn back to look at him. Maybe he’d realize how stupid he was acting.

But Seung Yoon didn’t look back.

The boy with the guitar left.

Jinwoo stood at the doorway of the practice room for hours, refusing to take it in. It was then he realized he forgot to tell Seung Yoon the most important thing.

“What about me, Seung Yoon?” Jinwoo murmured to himself.

_What about me?_

* * *

 

There was a new empty hole in Jinwoo’s life.

But it wasn’t in his dorm this time. It was in his heart. Jinwoo was carrying a gaping wound everywhere he went and there was still blood trickling from it, slowly and painfully.

This time there were no chairs to leave empty, no place on the sofa to skirt around and no beds to leave unmade. There was no sign that Seung Yoon had left except for his obvious absence on the street.

To Jinwoo, Seung Yoon’s corner of the street was like a black hole now. There was nothing there. No street, no air, no feeling. Nothing. Just a void.

No one else seemed to notice. The people of the city walked past the street as always, fidgeting with phones and laptops. They didn’t miss they rawness of the voice that would shake them from their mundane lives so they could see the beauty around them. The other trainees didn’t even turn their heads as they walked past Seung Yoon’s spot on the street.

In fact, except for Jinwoo’s broken heart, there was nothing left to show that Seung Yoon had even been in Seoul in the first place. Jinwoo didn’t have anything of the boy with him, not even a phone number.

Soon, Jinwoo began to think that maybe the guitarist had been nothing but a figment of his own imagination. Something his fevered brain conjured up when everything became too much.

Jinwoo threw himself into his practice, trying to forget the pain that stabbed his chest every hour, every second of the day. He tried to believe that it wasn’t real; that none of it was real. This wasn't supposed to happen. Jinwoo was supposed to be the one that left. Not Seung Yoon. Jinwoo was supposed to be temporary.

_But Seung Yoon was gone anyway._

It wasn’t real.

_He was not coming back._

It was time to move on.

_Jinwoo shouldn’t be hurting anymore._

The wound he carried wouldn’t stop bleeding.

_And there was nothing he could do._


	5. Chapter 5

Seung Yoon was getting used to living surrounded by words and sidelong glances.

_People on the street stared openly at him as he walked by._

_“Is that -?”_

_“Oh my god, it’s really him!”_

_“What is he doing here?”_

_“Wasn’t he in Seoul?_

In the beginning, there were only harmless questions. Almost everyone in Busan, particularly the area where he lived, recognized him. There were even requests for autographs and pictures. Seung Yoon refused these as politely as he could. He didn’t want the attention. It made Seung Yoon feel like a caged animal.

Then, the gossip started. Rumors flew that he was turned down by countless companies; that he was supposed to debut with a company but got thrown out after a scandal and countless other made up stories. Seung Yoon hardly even noticed.

He didn’t care what they thought of him.

The people who had known him before acted like everything was normal. Like he never left. Like he wasn’t known as the boy who sang _Instinctively_. They asked questions about his studies, his plans for the future, and his mother.

None of the talk was about Seoul. All of the talk was about Seoul. You understand.

Sometimes Seung Yoon got so sick of it all.

He didn’t know what he wanted. Seung Yoon couldn’t explain why he ran from Seoul. He had no idea where he wanted to go. And he didn’t understand why the last thing he saw before falling fitfully to sleep was always the deer-like eyes of a pale boy.

* * *

Seung Yoon remembered the day he arrived back home.

The train station and the cab ride home had been a blur of rumbling engines and scenery whizzing past the window. Seung Yoon remembered feeling tired. Exhaustion seemed to have settled in his very bones, so every move he made seem sluggish.

His mother had been pleased to see him. She had grabbed him in a bone crushing hug and made a fuss. Seung Yoon saw that she had lost a lot of weight in the months he had been gone. There seemed to be great smudges of purple paint under her eyes.

His mother looked old.

The thought surprised him and scared him all at once.

She had always seemed so youthful before.

His mom threw her arms around him and Seung Yoon thought he saw tears swim in her eyes. She hugged him hard and turned away, wiping her eyes discreetly.

His house was small but well lit. The stark light only served to highlight the bare walls. There were a few pictures here and there, but as far as decorations went, that was it. The air in the place seemed cold and unfriendly. Seung Yoon felt lost.

Home, Seung Yoon had thought. He was home.

So why did the place feel so foreign?

Seung Yoon knew that going home was supposed to feel warm and nice, like sliding into bed after a long day. But Seung Yoon just felt empty. He didn’t miss this. He didn’t miss any of it.

Seung Yoon saw his mom waiting for him at their little dining table. He thought of how long she had spent in this apartment, all alone day after day and night after night. She had needed him. And he wasn’t here. Loneliness and guilt stabbed him in the chest like a knife of ice. It was just him and his mom now. He didn’t have anyone else in the whole wide world.

“I made you your favorite, Seung Yoon-ah!” His mother told him, happily as she put down steaming plates of food before him. She proceeded to ask him how were things in Seoul, whether he was working hard and how long he will be staying.

Silence fell as Seung Yoon tried to answer her question. All of the answers he had carefully planned on the way here flew out of his head.

‘Was it always so quiet in here?’ Seung Yoon thought as he struggled to meet his mother’s eyes.

“Umma, I-" The words stuck in his throat. He tried again, “I’m not going back.”

His eyes had been resolutely fixed on the food before him as he said the words but they slid up to look at his mother.

Her eyes seemed to have shattered.

There was no anger there. No disappointment. But Seung Yoon saw the deep well of grief in his mother’s eyes.

Seung Yoon thought of how his mother had half-killed herself when he was younger, buying him his guitar and everything he needed to be skilled at it. She had worked herself to the bone, trying to make his dreams come true. She had always been so supportive, always ready to encourage him.

And now, Seung Yoon knew, she was wondering if she did enough.

“It’s not your fault,” Seung Yoon told her tonelessly. “I – I can’t do it anymore.”

The grief didn’t go away but Seung Yoon saw understanding glimmer in his mother’s eyes. She nodded and gripped his hand hard.

Turning his eyes to his food again, Seung Yoon heard his mom leave the table. The sound of a door shutting echoed through the lifeless apartment.

She was crying, Seung Yoon knew.

He should go and comfort her. It was his duty. He was the one who made her cry.

But Seung Yoon couldn’t bring himself to move. He sat there at the table, his own eyes burning with unshed tears.

* * *

Slowly, Seung Yoon had slid into the suffocating river of normal life and let himself drown in it. He welcomed the numbness of school; absorbing what the teachers thought and letting everything else bounce of him. He didn’t make friends.

Most of the kids there were people he had grown up with. They were more than happy to welcome him into their little cliques. Seung Yoon saw that they viewed him as some sort of gem; a celebrity to add to their collection of friends, a ticket to popularity.

Seung Yoon remembered how he had fallen into the wrong crowd, how they had played him and used him. Some of those people were the same ones who tried to stick up to him now. Looking at them now, left a bad taste in his mouth.

The other kids weren’t amused when Seung Yoon ignored their efforts to be ‘nice’. So, they stopped and went back to how they treated him before. He managed to numb himself to their renewed taunts and insults.

After a while, the kids got sick of verbal abuse. That’s when he started returning home with new cuts and bruises every other day. Seung Yoon blocked out the pain. It didn’t bother him much. His mother only saw him sparingly on weekdays as she had to leave early to go to work and came home late. So, she hardly saw his injuries.

His mother was working two jobs now. Seung Yoon had offered to get some work to but his mother had been dead against it.

“Focus on your studies,” she had told him.

_It’s all you have now._

She didn’t say it but Seung Yoon understood anyway.

* * *

His guitar stood in the corner of the room, hidden from sight like an afterthought.

Seung Yoon hated looking at it.

It reminded him of the days when he didn’t wasn’t chained to his own life. When he didn’t feel the crushing weight of what-could-have-been pressing down on his chest day after day. The times when he could escape reality using only his voice and that guitar. The nights he had shared with a hoodie-clad boy, his raw voice joining the boy’s beautiful soft one and setting them both free.

God, how did Seung Yoon hate that guitar.

The longer Seung Yoon looked at it, the angrier he got. His hands were curled into fists at his sides and his knuckles were white. He wasn’t as angry at the guitar as he was at himself, he knew.

_If only he had worked harder. Maybe if he had gone to more auditions. Why the hell did he leave in the first place?_

Seung Yoon couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed a random book and flung it at the instrument. The book and the guitar fell onto the floor with a loud thud. In the quiet apartment, it sounded like a bomb had gone off.

Seung Yoon’s mother rushed in.

“What happened?” Worry crinkled her eyes when she saw Seung Yoon standing in the corner of his tiny room; his chest heaving and hair falling into his eyes.

“Take it,” Seung Yoon spat out as he walked across the room and grabbed the guitar. “Sell it.” He shoved the guitar into his mother’s surprised arms. “Sell this too.” He scooped up his albums, guitar books and old notes on composing. “Sell all of them. They’d probably bring you more money than I ever did.”

“Seung Yoon-ah,” his mother began softly.

“ _No!_ ” He cut her off with a wild gesture. His eyes were burning again as he met his mother’s wide-eyed stare. “Just take them and go.”

His mother had left, defeated. Seung Yoon sunk to the floor of his room, wrapping his arms around himself. The four walls of the feebly lit room seem to close in on him. They seemed to mock him with reminders of failure: his superstar K2 contestant number was stuck on the wall, as well as his first train ticket to Seoul. A picture of him performing at a café hung in a corner.

Seung Yoon buried his face in his hands.

He never meant for any of these to happen.

He tried; god had he tried. But he had never been enough. Seung Yoon hadn’t been able to bear it anymore; he couldn’t take another rejection. Another ‘ _sorry but you’re just not what we’re looking for’_. He thought coming here would help. That being a normal boy would somehow make him forget the piercing lights of Seoul and the dizzying rush of performing.

He thought the salt-tinged air of Busan would drive memories of a soft spoken boy with tired eyes from his mind.

But nothing was working.

Seung Yoon felt like his very soul was dead; starved of the melody and harmony that had helped it thrive for so long.

_He needed to go back._

But could he really put his mother through that again?

Seung Yoon wasn’t blind. Or deaf.

He heard his mother stumble into the apartment very night. Seung Yoon heard her curses as she fumbled though the darkness, banging on furniture. He heard the clink of glass ringing out in the dead of the night. Every morning, he’d find them in the trash; dark bottles covered with crumpled bills. Seung Yoon’s heart ached with the knowledge that he was hurting his mother.

What could he do?

* * *

It took him three weeks to gather up the nerve to give the company a call again.

As he listened to the rings, he thought about the comments he had received at his last audition.

_You are skilled, but you don’t seem to want this._

_I didn’t feel a spark._

_Where’s your ambition? I didn’t feel that._

“I’ll give them ambition, Seung Yoon thought grimly.

The person at the other end picked up. The guy recognized his name, thankfully. Slowly, Seung Yoon convinced the receptionist to put the call through to the high ups.

Forty minutes later, Seung Yoon had an audition.

There was a burning hunger in him when he hung up. His dream felt closer than it ever had before and Seung Yoon felt the thirst for it in his throat. It wasn’t just for his mother anymore. Seung Yoon knew that he needed music to stay sane as much as he needed it to be happy.

“Living this life …” Seung Yoon thought, as he shoved his school books aside, grabbing a paper and pen. “It doesn’t feel like I’m alive at all.” He sat there thinking for a long time before finally putting his pen to paper. Words poured put and Seung Yoon could almost hear the melody they were going to carry.

Even as he wrote, Seung Yoon knew that not all of these words for him,

Some were for the boy in Seoul, whom Seung Yoon hoped was waiting for him and he prayed that the boy would forgive for being so stupid.

That night, Seung Yoon waited up for his mom. She started when she opened the door to see him sitting in the tiny living room. He could see her hiding something behind her back. Softly, Seung Yoon told her about the audition and as his mother started to cry, he walked over to her.

Prying the dark bottle from his mother’s hands, Seung Yoon looked her in the eye. “Never again,” he whispered. She nodded and threw her hands around him.

“ _Never_ ,” she whispered back fiercely.

“Umma, my guitar … do you know how can I get it back?” Seung Yoon asked hesitantly as he wrapped his arms around his mother’s frail frame. The woman made a half-choked sound that Seung Yoon realized was a laugh.

“Did you really think I would sell that?” His mother led Seung Yoon to her room. His guitar was there along with everything else he had chucked out of his room that day.

“This is your life, Seung Yoon-ah,” His mother said as she gripped his hands. “How could I take it away from you?”

For the first time in weeks, Seung Yoon felt himself smile.

* * *

The air the audition room felt still. It was like being in a stoppered bottle. Usually, Seung Yoon never sweats but now he could feel moisture starting to glisten on his skin. His heart was beating so hard he was sure everyone in the room could hear it. The CEO of the agency stood there, looking at him like he was appraising the work of an amateur artist, his eyes lingering over the flaws.

Seung Yoon didn’t move. His throat still felt raw from his audition. He had never sung like that before and he hoped it would make a difference.

“Well, you do seem do want this more than before.” The man said, drawing out his words. Seung Yoon’s heart climbed into his mouth.

_Say yes, please say yes, just please say yes._

**_Please_**.

“Welcome to YG Entertainment, young man.”

Seung Yoon bowed; gratitude spilling out his lips in a thousand jumbled thank yous.

“Work hard,” Yang sajangnim said as he walked out of the room.

Seung Yoon slid to the floor in relief, not caring that the judging eyes of the staff were trained on him. The room was starting to clear out, the dozen or so people who had come to see him grabbing their things and getting on with their lives. Seung Yoon sat there for a while, cradling his head in his hands, not even daring to believe that he finally made it. He had been accepted to a company. Everything he needed to make music was in his hands.

_Finally._

_He almost couldn’t believe it._

_He made it._

Finally, Seung Yoon let his mind turn to the pale boy who had faithfully visited him in his dreams for weeks now. He couldn’t wait to see his hyung’s face when he hugged him and told him that he made it. He finally made it.

* * *

“Are you ready?” The staff asked him as she placed her hand on the door handle. “This is your practice room. The room beside it is for the other boy group; the younger one I told you about.”

Seung Yoon nodded. The lady had been talking since they left the YGE building but he had barely heard a word she had said. The same thought chased around his head like a kid on a sugar high.

_Is he here?_

“Good luck,” the lady told him and Seung Yoon entered.

At first, Seung Yoon couldn’t see him and wild panic shot though him. No, he can’t have gone. He’ll be here; I know he’ll be here.

Seung Yoon’s eyes jumped from one faceless trainee to the other until he saw his hyung at the back of the practice room.

Jinwoo had lost a lot of weight since Seung Yoon last saw him. There were bruises on his arms and suitcases under his eyes. Seung Yoon didn’t need words to know that the older boy had been practicing into the early hours of the morning for days on end.

_Did he even sleep anymore?_

He watched as Jinwoo’s eyes widened when they saw him. After waiting for so long, Seung Yoon was almost scared to face the boy. Would Jinwoo hate him? Had Jinwoo even missed him?

Seung Yoon remembered the question Jinwoo had asked him what felt like a hundred years ago.

_“If I have to leave, what would you do?”_

Seung Yoon knew now that he had lied that day.

 _'I’d miss you'_ Seung Yoon wished he had answered.

‘ _I’d think of you every second of the day, every time I sang or played the guitar. Every time I walk on the street. Every time I saw a star. I’d see you everywhere but it’ll hurt so bad because you aren’t anywhere. And I might just go mad from how empty I feel without you.’_

“Yah, who are you?” The voice of another one of the male trainees tore Seung Yoon’s eyes away from Jinwoo. Mechanically, Seung Yoon bowed.

“I’m Kang Seung Yoon, the new trainee. I promise to work hard. Please teach me well!” Seung Yoon fought to keep a straight face as he greeted his new team mates. The trainees’ eyes softened at his polite words and they welcomed him with open arms.

“Practice is over for today anyway. We’ll start tomorrow.” One of the older boys told him. Immediately the trainees broke out in a babble of words as the packed up their stuff for the day. Seung Yoon stayed frozen to the spot.

What could he do to get Jinwoo alone? He couldn’t stay behind without a valid reason, could he?

“Guys, I’ll teach the newbie for a while. I’m staying behind anyway.” Jinwoo’s quiet voice rose over the din. The other trainees shrugged and left. Finally, the door swung shut and they were left alone.

Seung Yoon stayed where he was, not quite daring to believe that all of this was happening. They were completely alone now. Jinwoo looked at him from across the room. His eyes screamed of exhaustion and tears. Seung Yoon bit back a sob, taking in how Jinwoo leaned against the wall tiredly.

“Hyung …”

What could he say?

Seung Yoon reached out for Jinwoo was he approached the older boy.

“I’m sorry, hyung. I’m so, so sorry.”

There was a rush when Seung Yoon wasn’t sure who was moving but just like that Jinwoo was in his arms. He wrapped both his arms around Jinwoo tight. The older boy felt warm, comforting and familiar. Eyes closed, Seung Yoon breathed in Jinwoo’s familiar scent, letting it wash over him. Neither of them said a word for a long time.

“I made it, hyung,” Seung Yoon croaked out finally. Jinwoo bit back something that sounded like a laugh, a sob or maybe a bit of both.

“Yeah, yeah, you did.” Jinwoo smiled. Seung Yoon that his heart would break from happy he felt just then. He hadn’t let go of Jinwoo and Seung Yoon didn’t think he ever wanted to.

“ _Pabo!”_ Jinwoo said suddenly. “What the hell were you thinking leaving like that?” Jinwoo hit Seung Yoon’s shoulder hard and he winced.

“I wasn’t. I’m sorry.” Seung Yoon said, rubbing his arm.

Jinwoo grabbed him in a hug again and Seung Yoon laughed.

He was home.

* * *

**_31st May 2013_ **

Seung Yoon lay on the roof top of the dorm he shared with the other trainees.

It had been the day of their monthly evaluation.

When Seung Yoon got up that morning, he thought that it was just going to be like any another evaluation. Just another day of pitting their skills against the other group, measuring how far had they come since the last month. Seung Yoon had been exhausted. Juggling practice and the preparations for his solo album was not easy.

_His solo album._

When Seung Yoon got the news that he was to prepare and release his own songs, he had ecstatic and confused all at once.

For three years now, he had been practicing with a group. And now finally, he had felt like they finally had a group with a really good chance, with potential. Somehow Seung Yoon felt like the five of them, him, Jinwoo, Taehyun, Seung Hoon and Mino … they just fit somehow. They had had disagreements but that was normal. The five of them were different but together, they were perfect.

So the solo album did not make sense.

And now this …

Seung Yoon sighed as Yang Sajangnim’s words echoed in his head again.

_100 days … Two groups… Who Is Next … WIN … Winner_

_Debut or disband_

The worst part was the words the CEO had added towards the end.

If his team, Team A were to lose, all of them would be made to go home.

Except him.

He’d go on solo.

“As though the other guys needed more reason to hate me,” Seung Yoon thought. “I am already debuting earlier than the rest of them and now I have a get out of jail free card in my hands.”

It just didn’t make sense.

_Debut or disband_

Seung Yoon didn’t want to debut solo. He knew where he belonged and it was with the four other boys downstairs.

“Seung Yoon?” He turned to see Jinwoo standing right beside him.

“Hyung, you’re back?” Seung Yoon tried to smile. Jinwoo still kept up his ritual of practicing late into the night. Seung Yoon still joined him sometimes but lately he had been too tired.

“Yeah. I saw you weren’t in the room.” His hyung’s eyes were clouded over with worry. The news had hit Jinwoo the hardest, Seung Yoon knew. He had been there longer than any of them.

Seung Yoon knew that if he were completely honest, Jinwoo was the one who deserved a solo album. He’d earned it.

“Yeah, I was just … thinking.” A sigh rolled of Seung Yoon's lips. It stale and heavy, like sleep.

_Debut or disband_

“We’ll make it, Seung Yoonie.” Jinwoo gripped his shoulder hard. “Don’t worry.”

Seung Yoon nodded and turned to his hyung, smiling.

Or course, they’d make it.

They had too.

* * *

**_26 th October 2013; sometime past midnight._ **

The dorm was dark and quiet.

Seung Yoon’s head was still pounding from all the lights and music. He kept hearing the voice of Daesung hyung over and over again in his head.

_The Winner is … Team A_

Team A. His team. They did it. They were going to debut.

So why did it feel so wrong?

Seung Yoon felt sick.

He never wanted it to happen this way. He hated the fact that he had crushed someone else’s dreams to get to his own.

“We deserve it, Seung Yoon-ah. Stop beating yourself up.” Jinwoo’s voice rang out just inches to his right. If he didn’t feel so sad, Seung Yoon would have smiled.

“But our dongsaengs ...”

“Everything will be all right. They aren’t leaving.” Jinwoo’s voice rang out again. Soft and sure. “You didn’t take their dreams away, Seung Yoon-ah. You’re just making your own come true first.” Seung Yoon closed his eyes.

Jinwoo was right.

The five of them did deserve it.

There was a rustling of sheets and then Jinwoo’s voice reached Seung Yoon again.

“I told you we’d make it.”

Seung Yoon smiled.

They made it.

They were Winner. And they were going up.


End file.
